A Poignant Portrayal, By George

October 12, 2002|By Linda Winer Theater correspondent

We suspect that few Broadway wish lists have ever included a 90-minute imitation of George Burns by the actor who used to play the Riddler on TV's old Batman. But perhaps more will now. Say Goodnight, Gracie, which had its world premiere two years ago at the Broward Center and opened Thursday at Broadway's Helen Hayes Theater, is a surprisingly pleasant, even poignant, stroll through the life and times of the late comedian and late-in-life movie star.

Frank Gorshin, who went from bat chasing to nightclub impersonations and touring companies of comedies, does not look eerily much like Burns, the showbiz icon who died six years ago at 100. Gorshin does have the cigar, the owl glasses, the pinky ring and the economic, almost deadpan gestures. He takes the shuffling steps of a man who knows himself to be younger than his joints.

But Gorshin has the voice and, especially, the comic timing down pat, delivering Burns' familiar gravelly declamations with such meticulous pause and patter that decrepit jokes seem to be channeled from the source. As theatrical necrophilia goes, this is one of the more endearing examples.

Never underestimate the power of knowing your audience. Unlike many similar solo biographies, the neatly written script by Rupert Holmes explains up front why the gabby guy onstage is doing this to us. This dead soul isn't just up there talking to invisible people like a madman or addressing the audience without telling us why we should care.

You see, Burns is in limbo, which, as decorated by John Lee Beatty, is a sporadically hazy place with an ice-cream parlor chair and table, a bench from Forest Lawn Cemetery and an easy chair near an old radio that looks like a cathedral. "Oh, God," moans the newly deceased, who is zapped by a deity who had seen all three of Burns' wisecracking God movies. It seems He's a fan.

The gimmick, which works fine, is for Burns to review his life in his own words and, if God approves, be reunited with his beloved wife and longtime co-star, Gracie Allen. One may wonder what kind of God needs this sort of information, but this would qualify as too much wondering for one's own good.

There are resonant clips from old movies and from the classic '50s TV series he did with Gracie, who retired in 1958, before he wanted to, and died at 64. But this is very much a love story, and her voice, whether on tape or impersonated offstage by Didi Conn, remains as daffy as it was smart.